Fading
by Sakura Sango
Summary: Back at the elevator I asked you who you were. And you said… I just need to know to calm my mind. To know that I am at least in the right direction when I think that you are not a normal child. Please! I just want the reassurance that I’m not totally...


**Title:** Fading

**Fandom:** Detective Conan (Case Closed)

**Characters:** Takagi, Conan (Implied Takagi/Sato)

**Prompt:** 003. Ends.

**Warnings:** Character death, blood

**Word Count: **2339

**Rating:** PG

**Summary:** "Back at the elevator, I asked you, who you were. And you said… I just need to know, to calm my mind. To know that I am at least in the right direction when I think that you are not a normal child. Please! I just want the reassurance that I'm not totally insane in thinking that you are older then what you say."

**Author's Notes:** Heya! I just HAD to do this for my fanfic100. And this prompt just seems perfect for it.

_x-x-x-_

"Officer down," Takagi coughs, his voice ragged and broken as his breath shudders. Already his bloody hand has let go of the radio, the small black object clattering nosily on the hard cement. He can again feel the ribs that are cracked, feel one of them slide a little deeper and further away from the bone it had been connected to several minutes ago. It had been a violent fight and he is still feeling the effects of it.

"Takagi!"

The man smiles as he looks over at the running boy, somehow he is not surprised that Conan is so close. The boy always seems to know _just_ where to be. Just one of the many mysteries behind the young Conan.

The child's face is masked with determination and fear as he slides to his knees beside the bleeding man. Small, childish hands press against his stomach in a desperate effort to keep the blood from pouring out so fast.

Already the cement around the man is stained a bright crimson, the warm sticky substance a warning to Conan on just how bad the injury really is. Horror fills the boy's face as he presses harder, the crimson blood already pouring past his hands, puddling around his knees. Crimson seeps into his jeans, staining the dark blue fabric even deeper.

"C-conan," the officer's voice has gotten quieter, as he tries to force air to leave his lungs. Already it is becoming harder to breath as he tries to stay awake. He can see the fear and desperation in Conan's eyes, and something else. Something that reminds him of something that he wanted to know back a long time ago.

Takagi remembers, as he watches Conan press a hand to the bleeding wound while using his other hand to call for help, of all the times that Conan acted so much older then what he claimed. He remembers how easily the boy could deduct a crime scene, magically hinting the police- the ones who should have found the clues- to what would save the case. Of how calm and level headed he always seemed to remain in life or death situations; situations that would have normal children crying, Conan was always calm and even able to think of ideas to get them out. Ideas that no normal child would ever think of.

He remembers the times the that small boy would look years beyond his age. Conan's face could hide most all of his emotions easily, however his eyes. Takagi saw every small emotion flint through his eyes; and in times of desperation he watched, amazed, as they seem to magically age. He remembers seeing the childish eyes turn older in a moment, only to turn childish again once the trouble was adverted.

And in the elevator when he was freaking at the thought of having the bomb explode Conan was calmly dictating the entire situation. He somehow was able to come up with the clue about a second bomb _and_ disarm the one in the elevator. Something that no child should ever know, no matter what television shows he may have watched in the past. A story that Takagi never fully believed, he watched television too, and he had _never_ seen half of the shows that young Conan swore that he had watched.

Takagi wants to sit up, brush the boy away and go lie down on a comfortable bed. The cement and the pressing hands, along with the wounds, are just becoming too painful now for him to ignore. A groan slips out, something that he had not wanted to let out, Takagi had been determined to face this entire case with a brave face, even as his knees shook and his palms sweat. Even after he had felt the knife dig into him, he had been proud at how he had calmly called out about the suspect, hoping that the other officers in the area could take care of it.

"…hang on…"

Through the haze from the blood loss, Takagi _knows _that he has lost too much to survive too much longer- there was only so much the body could loose before it is beyond fixing, the officer tries to focus on the boy's face.

"Hang in there Takagi, the paramedics are coming."

Again Conan has the look of someone beyond a elementary student as he presses his hands harder against the man's stomach- earning another pained moan and writhe from the bleeding man- in order to stop the flow.

"Hey," Takagi wheezes as he tries desperately to keep his mind clear long enough to ask the question that has been burning in the back of his mind since back at the elevator. "Conan I wanted to ask you a question."

The boy nods, light reflecting and catching his glasses making the boy appear even older then normal. Older and more sinister.

A dry tongue draws across parched lips before the officer continues, he tries desperately to ignore Conan's face. The boy's eyes darken, as if he already knows that the question and is trying to figure out just _how_ to answer it.

"Back at the elevator," Conan leans closer to be able to hear the light voice, "you were able to do so much with that bomb, even before the bomb squad told us. There are no shows that would ever show a bomb in that detail."

Conan recoils back, as if burnt, eye brows knitting in thought. Takagi swears he can _see_ the gears turning to remember the event, the conversations, the excuses, and just how to escape this line of questioning.

"I asked you, who you were." Takagi no longer messes around by telling him about that day. They were both there, and both of them (and only them) knows what happened in that elevator. He knows from experience that Conan has an amazing memory, yet more proof that he is not a normal child. "And you said…"

"…that I would tell you on the other side." Conan finishes, proving that he does remember the day.

The boy falters for a second before smirking, a dangerous smirk telling the officer that he should stop this conversation before they go too far. A warning that Takagi refuses to take. He knows that he will die soon. Already he can feel death's cold fingers grabbing at him, holding him tight.

"I told you that I'd tell you on the other side." Conan repeats again, the smirk growing colder as his eyes plead silently; carelessly he tosses a glance around him as if to make sure that they are still in an alley. "I'm…We're still here. So I can't tell you yet."

"C-c-conan…" The older man tries to catch his breath, "I rather not wait for years, until you come-"

"NO!" Conan yells, his hands pressing harder into Takagi's wound as he screams at the dying man, and just for a second Takagi feels like Conan is finally acting like his age. "You're going to be fine! You just have to hold on a little longer. That's all! They're coming! I called them, just hold on."

A weak shake of the head is the boy's answer, Takagi knows that will not happen. He finally knows what everyone has meant when they talk about near death experiences. He swears that that light off in the distance had not been there when he first walked in. The alley had been cold, dark and depressing; there had not been a single ray of light to hit in here.

"Conan, please." Coughs rack the man's frame, blood staining his lips as he tries to catch his breath. "I just need to know. You're not like a normal child. No normal child can find the clues you find. Act the way you act. Handle dead bodies the way you do."

Conan watches silently.

"I just need to know, to calm my mind. To know that I am at least in the right direction when I think that you are not a normal child. Please! I just want the reassurance that I'm not totally insane in thinking that you are older then what you say. That you are someone else, somehow. I get the feeling that I know you from somewhere."

Takagi can see the struggle in the boy's eyes. He can see the want…_need_…to tell someone. Yet at the same time the hesitation of not wanting to tell one of the biggest secrets.

Conan can easily tell another lie to the dying man, tell him that him and Shinichi are just related. That he has learned his deduction skills from his older…cousin, was that their relationship (Conan has told so many lies that now he confuses just what relations people are)…that he has picked up on his traits. And he is about to, or until he looks into the man's eyes. Conan can feel his strong wall break, piece by piece, and before he knows it, Conan can no longer remember what his lies to the man were going to be.

Hanging his head, Conan begins in a low voice as he keeps constant pressure on the wound, his hands pressing harder as he begins to let the secrets fall. He talks slowly and quietly as he makes sure to hit every crucial point. He recounts every piece of information that he can tell, he tells about the fateful day at the amusement park, the men in black, about how big the Black Org really is (he even tells of some of the more famous members that he knows about). He even tells about Ai's true identity.

"You are right," Conan finally reaches the end of his story, something that would make a person a millionaire if they were to ever write about, "I am Kudo Shinichi. But to protect my family and friends I became Edogawa Conan. Because no one must ever find out that Shinichi is still alive. At least not until I find the men who did this to me."

Takagi listens carefully, his eyes widening with each new fact. So he had been partially right- Conan was no normal child. The full truth though, of Conan actually being Shinichi shrunken due to some black market drugs and a syndicate that was far too deep for one boy to take care of, was almost too much for him.

"If only you could have told me sooner," Takagi whispers, his eye lids fluttering shut. His breathing is becoming labored now as he feels his heart slowing. "If I had known, I would have helped you. Maybe together we could have found the men you need to find, Shinichi. I'm sorry I couldn't help you."

"No, it's not your fault." Conan shakes his head as he looks around for help. Where are they? They should have come by now, it feels like an eternity since they both called for help. "It's nothing that you or anyone else would have solved faster. It just is going to take a while to find the truth."

"Shinichi," a peaceful smile crosses the officer's face as his eyes flutter shut, "just stay safe. Don't do anything too reckless. And thank you for finally telling me."

Another cough racks the man's body as blood slowly streams down his face, he swears he feels the rib finally slide away from the bone. His heart slows a little more as his breath slows enough for the boy to worry for a second.

"No!" Conan cries again as he presses harder onto the wound, wishing desperately that he knew better first aid. He only knows the basic rules, keep pressure on a bleeding wound to help slow the blood loss. Keep the patient warm to slow shock, but what if those rules do not work.

Tears build in the boy's eyes as he shakes his head, no this cannot be happening. Gritting his teeth Conan forces himself to stay strong as he tries to focus on the situation on hand.

Takagi barely breaths, his eyes fluttering open and shut as he glances around flitting from one object to another as if he cannot see anything. "Hey Shinichi," somehow that name fits the child better than what Conan ever did.

"What," the boy's voice is quiet, soothing to the injured man.

"Can you tell Sato that I love her." A broken smile crosses the man's face as he stares at the boy's eyes. "I just want her to know that. I was scared of saying it before…but…but not anymore." Eyes flutter shut again as he tries to breath.

Conan can only whisper his answer as he feels the man's heart beat one last time.

_x-x-x-_

Lights flash, bouncing off of the alley's brick walls, brightening the small alley as paramedics run for the down officer. Conan cannot find the energy to tell them that they are too late, have been for almost three minutes now, as he sits against the chilled wall.

Shudders rack him as a bone deep chill settles in the young boy's body, leaving him unable to get warmed- even as a young paramedic drapes a warm blanket over his shoulders and hands him a hot drink. He's seen dead bodies, has been around people who have died around him. But this one affects him worse then ever before.

Silently he looks up, when a ear piercing wail echoes off of the walls, and for a second Conan wants to do nothing more then refuse to tell her. How can he tell a woman about her boyfriend's last words for her. He wants to have someone else tell her.

But as he stands slowly, the blanket falling off of his shoulders and cup long forgotten on the ground, Conan knows that he has too. Even if he _hates_ himself for it later. Even if _she_ hates him for telling. Without a second thought, or chance to talk himself out of it, Conan tries to prepare himself mentally, physically and emotionally to tell Sato what he has too.

_x-x-x-_

ACK! Done. I'm so bad when it comes to sad fics. I feel bad for killin off Takagi too- I love him.


End file.
